But the way it strikes me, I know she's right.
I love Kaiden.
***
My cellmate is still dry heaving and shaking like mad on the bottom bunk. I guess she’s drying out. They haven't woken at all in the hours I've been locked up in this grungy cell.
Sarah, the prostitute on the top bunk, has finally managed to get some sleep, though she makes these soft little whimpering sounds that make me want to reach out and comfort her. She didn't tell me much about herself, and less about what got her in here, but those pained gasps of her nightmares tell me more than she ever needed to.
I'm still at the table when I hear some noise from outside my cell. I haven't slept since the catnap in the car, but I'm too afraid to sleep. And, I'm still in a daze about my realization with Kaiden. About what I want from him.
"Abigail Tuney? Someone's come for you," the cop says through the little barred window. "You're being released."
I stand, pushing the chair away and turning towards the door as it swings open. I wonder if I should say goodbye to Sarah, but she's still deep in sleep, and I don't want to disturb her.
My hair's a mess, my muscles all ache, my makeup must be completely smeared or gone and I feel like a mess.
But when I see Kaiden's face?
He looks proud.
And I've never been so happy to see him in my life.
It's been a few days, and things have kind of returned to normal.
Well, I say returned to normal, but Kaiden and I haven't spoken since I got off his bike and went back into the house. I don't know what to say to him, either. I just keep thinking about what he told me...
What I had realized about how I felt.
It reminds me of the time I fell out of the boat. The way he looked at me like he was just seconds from kissing me, and then went suddenly cold out of nowhere. He didn’t speak to me for so long I thought I’d done something wrong.
But this time, I’m just as angry at him as I am at myself. Angry at how much I still want him.
He hasn't brought any other women home, either. He’s just been locked up in his bedroom by himself, barely eating, though he helped me get my car back from impound at least. Even at work, he's been avoiding me, and part of me is happy for the space.
But a huge part of me is upset that he's avoiding me. I know I started it, but I just want... something more than this.
It's dumb, I know that. But I don't care. If he really feels that way for me, he should do something about it. But of course he won’t. I know I won't. It's too risky.
Even if we weren't siblings, just getting closer to him would give Ryder more ammo.
I’m grateful that I have today off. My first day off in seventeen days, and I'm feeling pretty good about it all, other than the fact that apparently Kaiden took the night off too.
I can hear him in his room, the TV on low, but it doesn't matter. The walls are so thin I can still make out every word.
Sounds like he's watching some biker show, random shootouts happening every once in a while and a whole lot of yelling and fighting.
I listen to it for a while, letting my mind drift back to when I was sixteen or so.
I was at home, watching a movie on TV. I was all alone, had the house to myself, so it must've been summer.
It was some crime drama or something, and I remember getting really into it when suddenly someone had their hands over my eyes. I screamed bloody murder, jumped out of my skin.
And instantly, Kaiden apologized.
Big, hulking Kaiden came around in front of me, looking so upset that he’d scared me. He came home for a visit, and just wanted to surprise me. I had leapt up, into his arms, and he'd spun me around like I was nothing more than a feather, and we spent the rest of the day cuddled up on the couch just talking about nothing.
A lump formed in my throat. I wanted so bad to get back to that, to just forget all this had ever happened.
To forget that mom and dad had died, that my college money was spent on Kaiden's bail, that I had to live with him and work in a sleazy bar.
Kaiden's TV shuts off, and it must be around four in the morning; we are both pretty much nocturnal now. I hear him shifting, getting comfortable beneath the blankets.
I picture him lying there, one arm strewn over his forehead as he stares up at the ceiling, bare-chested as the sheets gather around his waist. It's still warm out and we don't have air conditioning, so I imagine his leg strewn over the blankets, barely clinging to modesty as he closes his eyes.
And then I tap, softly, on the wall.
It is barely more than a touch of my knuckle to the drywall, but I know he heard it.
He simply doesn't respond.
"Kaiden, you remember that time when I was fourteen, and I was supposed to have that birthday party? It was going to be princess-themed, remember? Mom bought all those pink decorations, plates and balloons and streamers, had them up everywhere. I was so excited, I just couldn't wait. I'd invited all my friends on these little themed cards, and told you that you had to go and that I didn't want you there. I was just so embarrassed to have my big brother hanging out with my friends, stealing all their attention."